


Playing Doctor

by apy02



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, salty medic tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:32:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apy02/pseuds/apy02
Summary: Medic finds himself having to surrender his position over the team for a few days to a cold, while reluctantly allowing Heavy to take care of him.





	1. Chapter 1

  Medic had been sitting at his desk for the past hour while he slowly labored away at some of his paperwork. The times were nobody had come in injured were seen as an opportunities to get something done. Yet, he kept distracting himself from his work he usually would happily fill his time with doing. He kept thinking of the last battle that occurred several days ago. The stalemate that took place made the entirety of the battle feel like an absolute waste of time; how they would have to do it all over again in a few weeks. Of course, not each battle ended this way. But it surely pissed him off to no end when they did. Why couldn’t he just get it right? Suddenly, these memories were interrupted by the main doors of the infirmary opening.

  “Doctor? Hello?” a deep, Russian voice rang from the doorway. It was none other than Heavy. “Oh, is doctor busy?”

  Medic looked towards the doors behind him with tired eyes. He felt more exhausted than usual, even though it was not very late at night for him yet. “Hm? Oh- No, you’re fine, come in.”

  “But paperwork?” Heavy inquired simply as he began to walk into the door.

  “Oh, these?” He said as he gestured behind him towards the stack on his desk. “Was just working on it to keep my mind busy, herr Heavy. Just some of my own studies,” he explained, his voice becoming increasingly raspier. His accent was also quite thick, letting Heavy know right away he was probably getting tired.

  “Hm... Okay. Well, as long as Heavy welcome,” he concluded with a smile as he walked in the doorway.

  “Heavy, what made you think you weren’t welcome here? You know, I would ignore stacks upon stacks of overdue paperwork for MannCo just to for you to talk to me, Ja?” Medic chuckled lightly. “I mean, we sleep in the same bed most days of the week, um Gottes Willen...”

  Heavy’s face became a slight red as he laughed along. “Did not mean it that way. Sorry,” he apologized as he sat down on the surgery table by his desk. Heavy knew that it was (usually) sanitized and decided to make himself comfortable.

  Medic had already looked back at his page on the desk, not noticing his blush. “No, Heavy... Don’t be sorry, you’re perfectly fine,” he assured him before letting himself go into a small coughing fit. He had been occasionally having them, but not while Heavy had been around him.

  “...Is Doktor okay?” he asked with newfound concern in his voice. “Lots of coughing and strange voice. Did you catch something in cold last-“

  “Heavy.” He was cut off by the Medic’s voice, growing more stern in tone. Medic turned his chair to the side to face him. “You should not worry about me. I was only outside for a few hours, and the weather wouldn’t be the direct cause of a disease, anyway. All I was able to contract was an increased risk,” he explained with a sigh. He realized that exhale scratched at his throat, but refrained from mentioning it. Despite knowing something wasn’t right, it was insulting that the medical specialist had couldn’t take care of himself... Even if it was getting harder to do so, with his age indefinitely increasing over-the-hill.

  “Da, Yes, I know... Heavy is only checking. Sometimes worry for Doktor.”

  “I know you know that, Heavy. All I was trying to say is not to worry. I’m fine, and it is not your job, Heavy,” he stated as he started to become more agitated. Medic tried to stay calm around Heavy, but it was definitely in his nature to have a fickle mood around anyone who inquired about his personal life and emotions. Heavy was used to this by now, but still felt it was a hassle to get around without making him angry.

  “Heavy doesn’t need job to look after Doktor. Who does if Heavy does not?” he asked while looking into Medic’s eyes. The man’s eyes that gazed back at Heavy were a piercing grey blue that couldn’t help but soften a little towards his kindness. Medic really did appreciate Heavy, knowing the sincerity of his words. It was just hard to believe they were as genuine as the Heavy intended them to be. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a warm feeling wash over him when he was told he was cared for.

  Only when the Heavy cared for him, that is. Ever since they confessed their love for each other only a few months ago, it seemed he was the only person to make him feel much of anything for another human. He cared for him too, and he wanted Heavy to know that. But he was quite the secretive man for a reason; he was used to keeping to himself because of that reason. The way Heavy tried to tear down these walls he built was obviously in a mindful way, but it was hard for Medic to allow him to try.

  A silence was brought upon their conversation. “Me. But, thank you,” he finally responded. “...You really do worry too much for me. You’ve got such a big heart, mein Taube... I hate to see you try so hard for me. I can take care of myself just fine, you know,” he stated, looking towards his hands resting in his lap.

  “Heavy knows this. You are capable man, of much knowledge. But my Doktor does not need to do everything all the time,” he said with a smile slowly appearing on his face. “Heavy just wants to help,” he assured him, since thue both knew he was certainly no stranger to helping the Medic.  
Before they began a relationship together, he experimented on Heavy similarly to uhow he experimented on anyone he could get to stay still long enough. Most of the team despised how Medic would try to use them for his own benefit (compaibly to disposable lab rats), but Heavy didn’t mind, as long as he could spend time with him. It had been quite a while since his last experience preforming live trials of his ideas on Heavy, but Medic was still perturbed at the thought of how rough and careless he was when that Heavy had been just another test subject to him, and nothing more. Which was surprising for him, as he had not given less of a damn about his other “patients” he has tinkered with, let alone felt regret for his actions.

  Medic lifted his head from hanging lowly on his shoulders to look back at Heavy. His smiling face was still looking tenderly at his own. Medic softened his usual austere expression to a more neutral one.

  “Thank you. I, uh... I’ll be fine, but I’m feeling strange. I may have not taken care of myself so well,” he admitted.

  “So, we finally have confession,” Heavy teased.

  “Hey, watch it...” Medic warned with his hoarse voice.

  “I kid, I kid. Heavy wanted to hear that, though. If Doctor feeling bad tomorrow, Heavy help with anything,” he told him. Medic suddenly went into another coughing fit into his arm as before he could reply. Heavy, albeit relieved that Medic could admit he was in pain, felt sorrow from the seemingly painful coughing.

  “Would you like Heavy to stay here for this night?” he asked once Medic was able to lift his head out of his arm.

 “I’m sure your already know that answer,” he replied with a small smile, attempting to poke fun a little as well. “Hope you don’t mind if I go to bed right now, then. I just want to sleep this feeling out.”

  Heavy couldn’t help but to beam when the Medic became playful with him like that. He enjoyed it when he would tease him because he felt it was cute. A descriptor rarely used for someone like Medic, yet he felt he was lucky to see that side of him.

  “Good, rest up! Wi’ll see you in morning. Heavy help put away Doctor’s papers, yes?”

  “Actually...” He paused as he got up from his chair before pushing it into his desk. “I wouldn’t mind that. Just don’t read them over,” he cautioned as he began to walk to his room.

  “Wait, Medic really okay with Heavy seeing papers? English ones?” he asked, caught off guard by the response. His question was only meant as a courtesy since he never expected a reply like that. Medic always tried to keep his work from anyone, including Heavy (despite most of it being in German). There was never a good reason why, besides the known fact that he prized his privacy. Due to this, he’d usually reject such an offer that involved them being looked over at all.

  Medic stopped walking away to think his decision over. “Hm? Well, can’t I trust you, Ivan?”

  Heavy felt himself suddenly become filled with joy. The Medic had finally trusted him with material that he would be completely secretive with otherwise. Maybe this was the start to him earning more of the doctor’s trust. And the way he used his first name in that tired voice made Heavy’s heart flutter.

  “Oh- Da, yes. Heavy just checking. Goodnight, my Doktor,” he said with the warm grin he just couldn’t wipe off his face.

  Medic gave a smile back at him once more before turning around and heading off to bed. Heavy began to clean off his desk, quickly shuffling papers into a pile. He had no curiosity over what they included; if he ruined their trust by reading them now, then he could never progress their relationship. He decided that he would avoid these personal documents for his own sake, more than the Medic’s. While he still had many questions surrounding the doctor, the grotesque surgical plans he had for his team were not included as a point of interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit 1: fixed formatting


	2. Rest

  Heavy’s eyes opened steadily to the blaring clock on the nightstand to his right. Letting out a small grunt, he stared at the ceiling, not quiet ready to be awake yet. That was until he suddenly heard a diminutive voice beside him.

  “Turn it off... Bitte,” it whined horsely.

  As disorienting as it was for Heavy to hear the doctor with such a meager voice, he quickly realized something was wrong.  
He sat up as he reached for the alarm, turning it off for him.

  “There,” he stated, still sounding like his own self was not completely awake yet.

  “Oh, danke Ivan...” Medic replied as a small cough was let out of him.

  “Not feeling better?” Heavy questioned. He began to climb out of the bed, making his side as he left.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m doing well.” Medic was yet to aknowledge to Heavy that he woke up sweating with one hand gripping the edge of the bed. As he shifted his body, he could feel how damp his clothes had gotten during the night. Luckily, he was wearing thin clothing, so he decided he wouldn’t go through the effort of taking them off for now.

  “Doktor does not seem very well,” Heavy pointed out as he made his way over towards the other side of the bed to take a closer look. “Oh... You look so... red.” Heavy tried to think of a better way to describe Medic, but there were no other English words that came to mind. What had came into his mind was how miserable the man must feel, based on how he looked and sounded.

  Medic let out a small chuckle to his poor English, finding his loss of vocabulary in the mornings ever-entertaining. Then he let out a violent cough from the pain caused in his throat. “Ack, excuse me...”

  “Is fine, is fine. Here,” Heavy assured him as he put his hand out to Medic’s forehead, not waiting for approval before doing so.

  “As warm as appearing. Hm... can Heavy measure temperature? With the, uh... little stick?” he asked, still struggling to remember so early in the morning.

  “Little stick, little sti... Oh, thermometer?”

  “Mhm, thermometer. Measure temperature?”

  Hesitant at first, he let a small sigh escape his lips before he explained, “Right of the fridge, top drawer.” Medic wanted to tell Heavy to not trouble himself, but he realized he was only asking out of his own concern. With this fever, he didn’t have the energy to argue about something like his obviously-jeopardized health with a man so stubborn to help him.

  “Thank you, Doktor. Already know Doktor is sick, want to check numbers.”

  “Ja, ja...”

  Heavy had disappeared into the doorway of their shared bedroom for what seemed like a long time to Medic. This room shared between them, originally for the use of the doctor only, was connected directly to the infirmary.

  His mind wondered on the Heavy and why he was taking so long. He had the strong urge to get up and just show him where the damn thing is, but his body was protesting. It ached in just a way that prevented him from wanting to move at all. Just as he got another urge to go and find it on his own for him, the Heavy returned with more than just the thermometer.

  Setting down a glass of water on the nightstand, he pat the side of the bed where he previously laid. “Come here.” Medic complied, assuming it was for the water he had left next to that spot. A smile grew on Heavy’s face as he handed him the thermometer.

  “Didn’t have much trouble moving?”

  “You act as if I was hit by a car, more than if I have a fever,” Medic faintly snickered at him, sticking the thermometer under his own tongue.

  “Hush, Heavy does not. Just looking on brighter side, da? Could have been in big pain,” he explained trying to reason with him, aware that any extra care to Medic, especially when he was only bedridden temporarily like this, seemed like an unnecessary annoyance to the man. Heavy knew his justifications would be seen as coddling , no matter how he phrased them.

  “Promise Heavy knows what to do. Had help care for many sisters back in Russia, you know? Always catch something if not careful.” He let his mind drift off to memories of his youth and family for a bit until his train of thought was derailed by the other voice in the room.

  “Ach... 100,” Medic silently stated as he held out the part he avoided to touch outwards to Heavy.

  “Knew it was fever. Get rest.”

  “But, I could at least get something done-“ he began as he got up before getting cut off by the Heavy’s voice and large hand pressing him down, the other taking the thermometer.

  “Nyet. Recover faster with sleep. Seem tired, anyway.”

  “Just because I’m tried doesn’t mean I need to sleep, mein Heavy,” he protested.

  Heavy stood above him with a laugh. “Is that why Doktor is tired all the time?” he asked jokingly, beginning to walk out of the door once again.

  The sick man laid on the bed unsure of how to respond. His reasoning would be lost on Heavy, as he felt he didn’t understand the way he worked very much. In reality, Heavy was incredibly familiar with his mannerisms and habits, being able to read him like a book. He was quick to understand him with more ease than anyone else on the team. Contrary to the belief of Medic, Heavy was also very aware of his negative traits and behaviors, not just his better ones. Not sleeping until his body shut down was a trait he deemed largely negative.  
Medic let the Heavy leave without input from himself, as he was most likely just going to sterilize the thermometer. He had helped clean so many other pieces of equipment, Medic trust him to do it himself.

  As he grew tired of waiting for the Heavy to return, his eyes slowly shut, allowing him to relax himself a little.

  Once Heavy returned, he looked upon his partner with a pleasant feeling in his heart. Finally, he was taking care of himself, even if his body was forcing it upon him. He quietly walked to the seemingly-asleep and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. To his surprise, the head turned immediately and objected his action.

  “Nein, don’t touch me. Don’t get sick,” he said curtly, with his hoarse voice quietly cracking.

  Heavy’s eyes rolled as he began to touch the cheek of the merc on the bed. “Don’t be such baby,” he teased, “Heavy won’t get sick. If that happens, does not matter to Heavy.”

  Even though he was aware of the looking nature in his sentence, Heavy would have no time to recover from this if he were to contract it to. He could get over this before their next scheduled battle, but cutting his recovery time tight. Medic still couldn’t help but to feel resistance towards his physical approaches. Yet... he always loved Heavy’s delicate touches to his face. It amused him how gentle a machine gunner like Heavy could be with him. As much as he wanted to keep this annoying disease away from him, his touch was addictive.

  “Um...You know, if you were sick, I would take care of you too, right Ivan?” Medic asked him.

  “Yes... You are team Medic, anyway.”

  “Well, yes, but I ment it as... that I would... be here for you, I suppose. Like, how you are with me...” He tried to let his words pass without the shy stutters, but he couldn’t help himself. 

  Heavy stayed silent for a second as he let the validation sink into his heart warmly. His smile couldn’t be helped now at the way Medic tried to express how he was thankful. How he expressed to the Heavy that he did care about him.

  “Ah... Heavy sees point now. That is why Heavy does this, though. Doktor would do same for his Heavy.”

  “...Exaclty,” he spoke with a grin as his voice had become gradually quieter throughout their conversation. Accent still thick and voice incredibly rough, Medic found it to be a miracle it was even understood at all. He let himself yawn as he closed his eyes again.

  “Sleeping now?” Heavy asked as he moved his hand away, much to the internal dismay of Medic.

  “I don’t think I can help it, ja,” he replied.

  “Get Heavy if anything else is needed.”

  “Of course, meine Liebling...”

Heavy began to walk back towards the doorway. Before heading out,  
he turned back to the bed. “I love you, Ludwig.”

“Love you too,” he returned, his tired smile growing after hearing his surname. Hearing it come from Heavy was always quite intimate for him. Wondering if someday soon he should bother to reveal his entire name to his love, he rolled to his side to start sleeping. It was something he kept a secret because of the awful things he’s done. The last thing he wanted was any of these mercs to remember him, if they made it out of here alive. But Heavy was much different then the rest of his team. Or anyone involved in this stupid war, for that fact. The Heavy actually made him feel something he though he couldn’t feel towards others anymore: compassion. Maybe thats what warrants a confession of an identity... But all that mattered to Medic in thinking over these things was that he was able to trust a Heavy enough the most personal information available. He had a somewhat new-feeling trust in Heavy that, unbeknownst to him, his partner had been longing for.


End file.
